Don't Tell Sammy

Chapter 8: You Deserve It

This venture out went much faster. They arrived at the mall faster now they knew where it was, and found everything on the list faster too. It was the same vibe between them this time around, their minds working in easy synchronization with little contrast. They were on the same page for everything they bought, not that there was much in the way of argument. The biggest argument to be had was what color vacuum to get and it was a choice between shiny brown or brilliant red, the red being the obvious choice because the brown, though glossy and shiny, looked vaguely like swamp water.

Their return was brief and it only took one trip to carry the things upstairs, Cas holding the box with the vacuum and on top of that, one with a toaster – ('Dude, how could we forget that?') with a carrier bag hanging from his wrist, Dean carrying the sweeping brush and mop, with a dustpan in the mop bucket he was carrying in his other hand, and a kettle for boiling water for the hot chocolate they'd gotten.

They unboxed the vacuum and placed that and the rest of the larger cleaning supplies against the wall next to the oven, in the empty space between the oven and the window. The unboxed the toaster and the kettle and set those up. The rest of the things they left in the bag on the counter to be dealt with when they got back, and then they left again, this time heading for the front doors instead of the parking lot.

On their way out, they checked their mail slot, and there was indeed a newsletter in there which Castiel held onto for safe keeping, folded and in his pocket, neat and secure.

'So, it comes out on Saturdays,' Dean noted.

'And is fast to report,' Castiel added. 'It seems like, despite the vast number of tenants, they seem to be tight knit. And very welcoming.'

'First Dalia, then Dave,' Dean agreed with him. 'That knocking thing, though ... do you think he was lying when he said there's no one else living in his apartment?'

There had been a brief conversation in the elevator with their next door neighbor, Dave, in which they'd cautiously asked him if he lived alone. He had confirmed that he did.

'He didn't seem to be,' Castiel frowned. 'I couldn't spot any of the signs that he was lying. He seemed to be perfectly calm, although if I was still an angel I'd be able to tell better.'

'How?' Dean asked.

'I'd be able to try and listen in to his heartbeat and see if it accelerated. Angels can zone in on things like that with enough concentration, and heartrates usually accelerate with lying.'

'I didn't know you knew that,' Dean frowned.

'I didn't always,' Castiel told him, 'but over time I picked up on that and a number of other things.'

'What kinds of other things?'

'It doesn't matter,' Castiel shrugged. 'Some are so mundane that they hardly matter. Others are better kept to myself.'

Dean raised his eyebrows, more intrigued than ever.

'Is that so?' he asked, somewhat a challenge.

'Yes, Dean,' Castiel replied evenly, 'it is.'

Dean made a slight 'huh' noise, but didn't reply, so they fell into silence as they crossed the street, the crosswalk the colors of the pride flag and looking much brighter and more appealing than your average black and white. Once they were across they veered left for the corner, and Dean found himself realizing that this was the first time in a long time that he and Cas had walked side by side through the streets with a destination in mind that wasn't something to do with the location of a monster or a person they were spying on, that they were just walking together normally with no danger at the end ... unless the store was run by monsters or something. Then they were fucked.